The Curious Case of the Lost Shoes (Role Play Game)
by crazywriter84
Summary: (This story started out as a role play game via Facebook and Skype. Although not complete yet, my friend Loki94 and I have decided to publish it. My friend wrote out of the perspective of Watson while I did Holmes, they're separted by lines.) Interesting what a pair of lost shoes can lead in a specific case for Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. A lot of trouble and misunderstanding!
1. Chapter 1

Even though the sun was shining in the Bakerstreet 221, it was a chilly day in October. Brown, yellow, orange and red leaves were falling from the trees and were covering the paviour. I was sitting in the living room and was reading the newspaper, when I heard a loud explosion in the first room. 'Dear god, what has my friend done again?'. I thought worriedly. I threw down my newspaper and ran up the stairs. I walked to Holmes' room and threw open the door, without even knocking. I was too concerned for the health of my dear old friend. When I entered the room I stopped dead in my tracks. "Holmes, what in the Queens name are you doing?", I asked incredulous.

* * *

><p>From Watson's tone and his expression I knew he is concerned about me, truly a loyal companion. "Why as you can see testing an experiment, my dear Watson."<p>

"An experiment in the dark? Holmes! I can barely see what is going on here!" Called Watson not amused. Soon he found the window, he pushed aside the thick curtains and opened the window. He gave a short cough. I lit a Turkish cigarette and puffed peacefully, knowing Watson will bring out again his words of concern about me. I blew out the Bunsen burner and made myself comfortable on my chair.

* * *

><p>I crossed my arms before my chest and asked: "What happened in here and what is this green fluid that is covering half of the ceiling?" I cockle my brows and think: 'Doesn't he understand how dangerous these experiments are. Especially, when he is working in the dark. I'm really worried about him.'<p>

* * *

><p>"Watson, your deduction for the obvious has failed! As I said before, testing an experiment." I sighed, took a brief draw of the cigarette. "This green substance wasn't green before. Due to the explosion I've detected that the substance is combined with chlorophyll, ethane, liquid hydrogen and some other substance. Now that the ethane and liquid hydrogen are gone and the chlorophyll holds with the other, I shall know soon what it exactly is." I explained to Watson calmly. Looking at times to Watson and up to the ceiling. That other substance is very flexible and sticky, not a delightful sight but bright green as a leaf in spring.<p>

* * *

><p>I looked at Holmes, mystified. 'Why would someone conduct an experiment, if he doesn't know what results he awaits? Perhaps he's bored, because we don't have any case at the moment. London is quite peacefully and if that's the case Holmes always becomes a little bit reckless, because he gets bored out of his mind. I sigh and pleaded: "Just be careful, dear friend. I don't want to treat you because you were reckless. You are a brilliant man and you ought to take care of yourself. It would be a shame to lose such a brilliant man." I walked towards Holmes to sit down next to him, but sadly I missed how a bit of the greenish liquid fell onto the floor and stepped right onto it. I inevitably slipped and lost my balance. My eyes widen in shock and I looked in Sherlock's piercing blue eyes that seem to know all the secrets in the universe. "Holmes!", I shouted helplessly, while I was falling towards the floor.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Immediately I threw a cushion towards Watson, aiming under the head. I was hoping he wouldn't step on the greenish substance, alas he did. Thankfully to my quick-witted reaction with the cushion Watson had a soft landing. I began to grin broadly as Watson picked himself up. "Speaking of taking care of me, do not forget about yourself in the first place my dear Watson."

Suddenly there was a knocking from the main door of our flat. In the distance I heard Mrs. Hudson answering the door she gave a short cry. 'Hullo? This unknown guest is eager to consult us. Due to the sound of the steps a man with heavy boots and perhaps due to the out cry of Mrs. Hudson with a special appearance.'

* * *

><p>I closed my eyes and awaited a painful landing; luckily I fell on something soft. I blinked a few times and sat up. My face landed directly on a cushion that prevented me to get hurt. I looked around the room to find out where it came from. When I saw Holmes' broad grin I got my suspicion where the pillow was from. My suspicion was confirmed when I saw a second cushion in the same colour on the armchair Holmes was momentarily sitting on. I wanted to complain for his disrespectful, very smart act but I just couldn't when I saw his smile. It was so warm and rare that I didn't dare to say something fearing to see that smile fade away. When I heard Holmes' comment I shrugged and answered teasingly: "I don't need any lesson from such a reckless person as yourself, Mr. great detective." Before Holmes could answer, I heard a knocking at the door. 'A client?', I wondered. I studied my friend and saw how his face illuminated itself at the prospect of a new case. I shook my head. 'Some things just never change.' I heard the sound of heavy boots and try to find as much information out on my own. I wanted to impress Holmes, who had titled his head to better listener. "I think it's a man", I told him, even though I knew he already knew that. That's why I was so surprised when the door opened itself and a burly, young woman entered the room. She wore huge black boots and a pair of brown trousers. The white blouse she was wearing was covered in grease. Her dark, short hair was sticking to her from the sun-tanned face. I heard a gasp next to me and looked in the direction of the sound. It seems that I wasn't the only one that expected a man and not a woman. Holmes was looking at the woman with huge, wary eyes as if he was expecting that she would turn into a man before our eyes. That idea was ridiculously entertaining, but I couldn't help myself. The uncomfortable silence was stretching itself. Nobody knew what to say and nobody dared to move.<p>

* * *

><p>Special appearance… A woman? Quickly I collected and cleared my throat, interrupting the awkward silence. "Pardon me for this inconvenient."<p>

Abruptly I pulled Watson at his sleeve out of my room while I straightened myself by removing my experiment coat and threw it to one corner of the room. Finished the cigarette brushed my hair and entered the room. Prepared to hear an interesting case, which I hope she brings.

* * *

><p>Suddenly, everything happened very quickly. Holmes pulled me out of the room and readied himself for the case. We entered the room again and the woman was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the messy room. "Take a seat, please. We will listen to your problem", I told her gently.<p>

"Aye, but before that I have a question, mate. What happened in here?", she asked incredulously with a thin Scottish accent.

A strained smile appeared on my lips and I explained: "Believe me, you don't want to know Madame."

She squinted her eyes, but a few seconds later she sat down on the opposite of us. "It all started about three weeks ago. My brother got these similar pair of boots that I'm wearing at the moment. When I asked him where they were from, he said he didn't know. He got a parcel and they were in there, but there wasn't any address written. My brother chose to keep the boots and three weeks later he mysteriously died."

"Mam, I don't want to sound rude, but what role do the boots play?", I asked. It just didn't make any sense to me.

"Everything, lass! My brother left the house with the boots, but when they found his body in an alley he was barefoot."

I looked at her boots and answered: "Well, somebody stole them. They seem to be very expensive, after all."

She rolled her blue eyes and answered annoyed: "I also thought that, but a full week later I got a parcel with the boots from my brother."

"Interesting. That doesn't make any sense. So why exactly did you decide to come to us?" I asked.

"Today I got a letter and it said: "_Soon it's your turn._ I think my brother didn't die of a natural death, quite the contrary. I think he was killed. A good friend of mine told me that a famous Detective was living at the Bakerstreet, so I came to ask for his service. Sadly I do not have much money to pay him" She looked down on the floor and played nervously with her hands.

I looked sideway and noticed that Holmes seemed very concentrated. 'Strange, he hasn't said anything yet.' I thought, but I knew better than to disrupt his thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

She told her story as I seated comfortably in my favorite chair and listened carefully. I noticed Watson's glance and didn't let it bother me.

"May I see the letter?" I asked reaching eagerly out a hand to receive the letter. It was A5 format of a normal cream white paper. The letters were written by hand with the tip of a thin royal blue ink fountain pen, very unusual to use as a warning or threat, yet classical and typical. The letters were all printed but the 'y', it was more curved than the other letters. I held the paper up to the light incase there are more secrets to discover. Secrets! This woman hasn't told the whole story; she knows a few things more. Due to her body language and the aura of caution I've felt since she entered this room.

I rose from my chair and walked to the fireplace to light a new Turkish cigarette. "Miss Marie MacClintoch, you haven't told me all the facts. If you want them cleared, then pray tell." I kept my eagerness and anger under control.

She stared at me surprised, her eyes widened. Soon she collected herself. "I assure you Mr. Holmes. I've told you everything I know and how on earth do you know my name?"

"How I know your name is not relevant at the moment. Now tell me!" I quickly took a deep draw of the cigarette and waited patiently for her response, facing her.

* * *

><p>"My poor, wee brother, bless his soul. He was a really a nice boy, but he had bad friends. He consumed opium. He never told me that but sometimes when he came home he smelled strangely and his pupils were widened. I wonder where he got the money to smoke Opium? We are very poor and I never noticed that any money was missing", she said saddened.<p>

I looked understandingly at her. I knew from personal encounters that opium addicted was very complicated to handle. I looked warily at Holmes. "Do you think he was participating in a shady business?", I wondered aloud.

She whispered: "It might be. I just do not understand why they took his boots from him and gave them to me, just to threaten me. Why did they not keep the boots? They are expensive, but that is it!"

I hope Sherlock would shed some light into this intriguing case.

* * *

><p>I was beginning to wonder if some drug such as opium had its role in all this. From Watson's glance I knew his concern for me and without a doubt would do his best to prevent me in the near future from visiting an opium house. "These bad friends from your brother, how did they treat to him?" I questioned calmly and clapped my hands together before my lips.<p>

"Well, they weren't the kindest but also not the roughest from what I heard. They appreciated him." Marie responded.

"Do these fellow meet regularly, if yes where?"

"At the Red Apple Pub down Victoria Street where I work as a barmaid."

"At which time?"

"Everyday 9 o'clock in the evening sharp."

Thank you for your trust Miss MacClintoch. I shall investigate this intriguing case of yours with the greatest pleasure and there is no requirement needed for a payment."

"Are you sure? I do have some small amount ready to pay when the case is clear or for a free round drink."

"We can discuss that matter when the case is cleared Miss MacClintoch." I smiled to her generosity and held open the door for her. As she left without another word and I closed the door. I leaned against the door and smiled to Watson. "Now what do you think of that?"

* * *

><p>"This is a very interesting case, but I am really worried, Holmes", I told him, while I was standing up and walking towards him. His piercing blue eyes were looking straight at me and I had a feeling that he was analyzing my every words and movements. This made me very uncomfortable, so I squirmed under his look. I decided it was not the time to feel awkward around my long time companion and went on: "I am sure that you are going to investigate this opium gang and this does not please me at all, Holmes. Do you not remember the last time? I had to drag you to a bloody hospital, for god's sake! I was worried. You do not understand what…never mind!" I think it is the right moment to take a hastily retreat. I started to walk past Holmes and hoped that my friend had not noticed my change of topic. Who am I joking!<p>

* * *

><p>As Watson gave up discussing with me about his concern of my health, I noted. "It was only once Watson. After all who said here anything of smoking opium? It is all part of the case. My dear Watson, in order to soothe those nerves of yours today and bring to a different topic, shall we not head for an early super to the Red Apple Pub?" I leaned an arm over his shoulder and grinned to my own excitement.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

I looked at the Swiss clock that hung on the wall. It is seven o'clock sharp. We still have a lot of time to discuss the true issue. I know that as soon as Holmes begins to investigate the case, there is no way to hold him back. I need to discuss the true issue know! Because I do not want to see the same thing happen to him. Suddenly I find myself remembering the long forgotten past. I stumbled a few steps back and put a hand on my head. I feel Holmes' worried look upon me, but I am so submerged by the memory that I didn't care.

"I was ten years old and my mother was dancing with me. She had a huge smile plastered all over her face and we were spinning around the small kitchen. Mother was smiling less and less, that is why I was so happy when she stumbled in the kitchen and danced with me and we laughed. She told me she was a phoenix and she was soring through the sky. She told me she felt the wind through her feathers. I did not really understand what she meant because obviously she was not a bird. Perhaps this was a new game. Mother, never played with me, so I did not want to complain. My head was spinning and suddenly she let go of my hands. I stumbled over my feet and fell onto the wooden floor. My mother was swaying and suddenly she went rigid. Her eyes turned upwards and she dropped to the floor. I laughed at her silly attempted of a joke, if I had known… I crawled towards her and shook her shoulders, but she did not give any sign of waking up. "Mother, come on. It is not funny! Mother? Mom?", I asked worriedly. "Mommy!", I shouted when I realised she was not breathing", I thought. What I did not realise was that I was so out of it that I was speaking aloud. Suddenly, it was not my mother on the floor, but Holmes. His once focused blue eyes were glassed over. "No, Holmes! Was it my fault?" I stumbled again and took hold of the armchair. My whole body was shaking. I dropped on the chair and went almost completely limp. Why does this whole thing still hunt me!

* * *

><p>I remained silent for a moment. I knew he lost his mother at a young age. That he lost his mother through drugs was not my suspicion. That explains the way he speaks in his sleep when he takes a nap on the couch, not always but sometimes he cries out for his mother like a child.<p>

"My sincere apologies Watson, I hadn't realised. I'm afraid in this case it is inevitable but nevertheless do remind me at times if I tend to go too far. Now, why don't we grab our hats and take a good look upon the case." I spoke lightly concerned and headed to my room for coat and bowler hat.

* * *

><p>I blinked a few times surprised, had I told him everything about my mother without realizing it? It seems like it. I never told him about my mother's cause of death because I feared he would laugh about the guilt I felt. I could not save her at that time that is why I wanted to become a doctor. Still, when someone I know takes drugs like opium I tend to get slightly overprotective. I am amazed that Sherlock wasn't annoyed about the mistrust I felt against him. I insulted him and he did not even try to defend himself. He even said I could tell him when he goes to far. Holmes deeply cares for me and I am very thankful for that. A short time later Holmes arrived dressed to go out. In his left hand he held my coat and my melon hat. I forced myself to stand up, smile thankfully at him and took my hat. "I need to apologize, my dear friend. My protectiveness went definitely too far. I should have known that I can trust you. I am truly sorry. I am not a good friend, old fellow", I explain while smiling warily.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

I only nodded to his apology and smiled friendly. Once outside the autumn sun was slowly setting beyond the horizon. Nearly around every corner the street lanterns were freshly lit and many people tucked their hats and scarfs tighter for warmth. We walked peacefully to Victoria Street and found without difficulty the Red Apple Pub. It looked like any pub with a bright blood red apple out of wood as a sign. The door jingled due to the positioned bell above the door when a customer entered or left. The interior design was rather rustically with solid oiled oak. The scents of ale and potato soup were hardly to be missed in the air. Few costumers sat at the bar with their glass of ale or gin while others sat at a table and had their soup. At the fireplace the fire was alit, providing the marvelous warmth. At the bar I noticed Miss MacClintoch. She gave a nod to me and I nodded back.

As we took a seat at a table she came to us. "Well, good of you to come. You're a bit early but while you wait would you care for some ale and soup?"

"Why not on a cold day like this?." I responded neutrally like a normal costumer.

"Very well." She gave and walked into the kitchen.

* * *

><p>I looked around the pub and tried to see something unusual, a reason why they always met at this particular pub but I couldn't find any. This pub was like any normal pub. Strange? The jingling of the door interrupted my train of thoughts. Inconspicuously I looked at the new guests. Seven men came in and walked to a reserved table. Marie ran to their table and took their order; the pencil she was holding was trembling slightly. Were these the so-called friends of her dead brother? When she left she nodded slightly towards us and I knew I was right. The men were sitting in a dark corner and whispering conspicuously among themself. Alas I could not understand what they were talking about because of the music group that was playing in the background. Perhaps that's why they chose this pub, because it is so noisy in here. I asked Holmes: "What shall we do now? We won't learn anything important like this!"<p>

* * *

><p>"All in good time Watson. All in good time." I spoke softly to Watson. A good thing that a table was free by the window and that the gang sits directly opposite of us. Thus I was able to detect peacefully at the reflection of the window. All seven of them were young, due to the physical building they could be between 20 and 25 years of age. Some had a thin moustache while others were clean-shaven. The clothing's were simple, tweed jackets, wool knitted newsboy caps, and long corduroy trousers in nut-brown. Due to the grease smudges on some trousers, some work in a factory with mechanics, actually all of them. All but one, one was totally clean by the clothes. Including his face, clean-shaven. Particularly he sat in the middle. Presumably the superior of the gang and only he threw multiple times a suspicious glance towards us. Soon Miss MacClintoch arrived with the ale and soup; briefly she tucked a noted under my pint of ale and left without a word.<p>

I handed the note without unfolding it to Watson.


	6. Chapter 6

Eagerly I unfolded the note. It was another threat message. It said that her time was almost up. When the full moon has past, she will be long gone.

I shivered slightly. The full moon was tomorrow, so we have to hurry or something terrible will happen. I handed the note to Holmes who was drinking from his ale. He took it and put it in his pocket without sparring a glance at it. I drank from my ale and ate a bit of my soup. The time was passing and nothing intriguing seemed to happen. The seven men were still discussing whatever issue they had and Holmes was sipping his ale.

Suddenly black points started to dance before my eyes and it seemed the whole room was spinning. What is going on? I heavily leaned on Holmes and my eyes felt so heavy. I really wanted to sleep. Through my hazy eyes I understood that I was drugged, but from what and whom? The only person who could have done that was… Oh no! I sincerely hope my companion did not fall into the same foolish trap. I could not keep my eyes open and the last thing I heard was Holmes concerned voice.

* * *

><p>"John!" I whispered eagerly, gently shaking his shoulder. It was no use. I only drank the pint of ale and somehow I am not drugged. It must be in the soup. Briefly I looked up to the reflection of the window, the superior began to smile broadly with a hint of evil. He must have connection with MacClintoch in order to drug the soup! Or worse with every staff of this pub, I knew MacClintoch was holding some secret away from me. I should have been more harshly to her but my damned eagerness for another case, to liberate myself from the boredom! I bit my tongue in shame. I threw a short glance to the bar; MacClintoch was nowhere to be seen. Actually I had planed on acting a drunkard to receive more information of the gang, but with Watson drugged that changes everything. I shall act as if being drugged too. I took half a spoon to my mouth, besides the potato and spices there was a hint of Valeria for the endurance and some other drug that I could not lay my finger on. Briefly while pretending to blow my nose I stained ever so slightly my handkerchief with the soup to analyze once in safety. Thankfully to the small amount of soup in my mouth the drug only made me feel relaxed. Soon I acted along, sleeping on the table.<p>

"Alright gents it's time to take the luggage." Spoke a man what I perceive was the superior of the gang. Suddenly warm strong hands half carried me off the table and of the pub. Quickly I pretended to be drugged and have opened my eyes for a brief moment with a fatigued moan. They are carrying Watson and me down the Victoria Street in the direction of the Thames to the Westminster Bridge. I wonder they will bring us to? Suddenly I was swung onto the carriage. Lying upon sacks of wheat due to the smell. There were more scents in the air, that of the gang the mechanic oil and grease and of the coach driver the alcohol.

"What have you planed with these two men Jack?"

"Making a few things clear. Cutting lose ends."

"What? Also sweet Marie?"

"Aye, also sweet Marie. She is just as smart as her little brother was and quick to the moves. Indeed we did warn her to stay out of it but unfortunately she didn't pay heed to it."

Thankfully to their silence afterwards, I was able to deduce by the sounds around me in which direction we are heading. As the carriage halted I heard in the distance clearly a train, if my geographical calculations are correct we could be close to the London and Southwark Bridge. The laughs of seagulls were clearly heard nearby and the foul scent of dried seaweed on the banks of the Thames. I was lifted by two men off the carriage and further. Directly under a bridge I heard a mechanical switch moved and the hinges creaking of a metallic door opened. Immediately the scent changed from seaweed to metal, oil and grease. Somewhere above us I heard the train this time closer than before. The floor sounded firm and stone a like, due the sounds of the shoes of the gang. "Here's a good place to dump them till the drug's worn off." Demanded a man.

Once they were out of earshot, I dared to peek. They were clearly out of sight too. Quickly I stretched my arms and looked around me. Watson was still unconscious. We are right under the London Bridge train station! I shook gently Watson's shoulder, slowly in time he moaned fatigued and soon came to his senses.


End file.
